Today I indulged in a latte at Starbucks. You can get those in Chiang Mai too, you know. Just a lot more expensive than the local java. I felt like something predictable, and nothing is more predictable that a tall latte at Starbucks. I also wanted to sit somewhere alone to read and write, and I found the perfect little corner. I put on my don’t-bug-me-aura and slurped the foam off the top while reading my book and taking notes in my journal. A nice way to spend a morning.

Outside the window cars moved in a steady stream, like herring in a school. A haze of smog covered the overpass, and made a resident mountain invisible. The view from my window was like a flat screen TV on mute. I could indulge in my latte, watching the movie, but really not know what was going on.

On the bed of a truck people were squatting, squeezed together so that the whole work-crew would fit on one truck-load. They were construction workers—probably from Burma. Probably paid less than minimum wages. Probably rather do that than living in dictator hell.

Behind the over-populated truck was a shiny Benz, chrome sparkling, black like a stallion, windows tinted, but I could still see the owner—a lady in her fifties. Her hair was looking like cotton candy, just not pink. She wore a polyester suit with shoulder pads and tropical colors. I figured she had a maid that would come running, opening her elaborate gold-painted gate when she came home in the afternoon, tired from all the shopping and the tea with friends.

Next to me, in my TV room sat a couple. Both had ordered espressos and both had their Blackberries in front of them. For the whole time I sat there, neither one spoke a word to the other, but it seemed like the Blackberries were good for conversation. They were sitting together, closely by a very small table. But they were as far apart from each other as they would have been if they had been on opposite ends of Chiang Mai.

So many people, I thought, passing in front of me as I live my life. So many. Like a school of herring they swim in front of me as I sip my latte and really have no idea what is going on in their lives.

Sign up for notifications via email.

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 283 other subscribers

Enter your email...

About Oddny

Oddny is the founder of a non profit organization working with children affected by conflict and oppression. She is a motivational speaker, the author of 2 books, and mother to 3 beautiful girls.Read More